


Mine to Keep

by Strange_Hearts



Series: Mine to Keep Story and Outtakes [1]
Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: All Human, Bad Alice, Character Death, Control Issues Edward, Dark fic, F/M, Good James, Good Victoria, Orphan Bella
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 04:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1290769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strange_Hearts/pseuds/Strange_Hearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>
    <br/><i>'I know all about your interesting position right now, and I have to admit, I have an idea of being able to help you. You see, I am in need of a wife, and I truly believe that you are the best person for that roll. This is why I have chosen you to become my wife.  Now, you can think this over all you want, but there is something important that you should know about me, the main thing, in fact:  I don't take 'no' for an answer! So, even if you wish think it over I am afraid that you really do not have a choice in the matter. '</i>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
<b>When Bella gets an e-mail from someone who she thinks is just claiming to be E. A. Masen, the CEO of the paper she's interning at during the school year, she thinks it's just a joke.  But when she's kidnapped by some people and brought to him, she realizes that it's not a joke, but that E. A. Masen is very serious about what he wants.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine to Keep

**Author's Note:**

> ****  
> _Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight._   
> 

_And now, here is the newest teen drinking article from Isabella Swan_ I thought bitterly, pausing in my typing to look at the clock. It was only three, which meant that I had another two hours before I could go home, unless I finished the article earlier. I heaved a huge sigh, turning back to my computer, bored out of my mind. This was the fiftieth time that I've written about teen drinking. I wished that they would stop giving me this article, though I knew why I always got it. I was just an intern, one that they were kind of forced to have due to the lack of a journalism class at Forks High School. Apparently, someone thought it would be a good idea to actually have teenagers work seven hour workdays during the weekends if they wanted to learn how to be a journalist, instead of actual making some kind of class, or even club, for it.

However, that didn't make the article any less irritating. I mean, teens were still finding ways to drink, even with all the restrictions. It wasn't new news; I knew for a fact that this had been happening when both of my parents were teens. Still, the woman in charge of my internship, Ms. Stanley – my classmate Jessica Stanley's mother – was the driving force behind making sure that this was the only thing I was allowed to write.

Not that I didn't try to fight against it. I had tried to tell her that it would be more interesting to write about things like eating disorders – which were a real problem in many of the girls at school now a days – or speedo padding on the swim team. I'd even gone ahead and written articles about them, sending them to her as was instructed, for I was allowed to free write an article in my spare time, but every time I tried or sent in a free write, I always received the same answer. 'Stick with the topic I gave you, or you're fired!'

I didn't know if she actually could fire me – the newspaper I interned at had to host at least two students at a time, no exceptions – but I didn't want to test it. I knew that there were others who wanted the position I was in – not only was I learning how to be a journalist, but I got paid ten dollars an hour – so, up to a hundred fourteen dollars every weekend. I also got a bonus of two dollars for every article I finished – not that it was much, since I was only given one article to do every weekend.

However, though the two dollars wasn't a lot, what I got for just being there was, and I desperately needed the money.

I sighed, typing out the last of the article. I couldn't keep doing teen drinking articles. But, it wasn't like I could do something else, either. I mean, so long as Ms. Stanley – the bitch – was in control of what I was and wasn't allowed to write, I wouldn't be able to do anything else. Unless...

Suddenly, boredom ceased as I remembered something I had read about this internship. Most specifically, something I'd read about what to do if you were having problems with you 'mentor' – I had silently laughed at that when I'd compared it to Ms. Stanley, for she had been anything but a mentor to me. A smile crossed my face as I found and pulled out the information package I'd been given two months ago, which held what I needed. Opening it, I found the second I was remembering, reading it over quickly.

_**If you have a problem with your mentor, and would like** _   
_**to request a new one, please contact Mr. E. Masen at**_   
_**MasenPapersCEO at email dot com, and explain why** _   
_**you'd like to request a new mentor. Please make sure** _   
_**to include reasonable reasons for your reason.** _

A smile came to my face as I read who to email. I was a bit surprised, though to read the name. I wondered if the person I needed to contact was the owner of the paper, or just a family member. Or, maybe, the surname was nothing more than a coincidence. I mean, there are quite a few people who have the same last name that are not related all around the world. It wouldn't surprise me if that was the case here.

Still, now that I knew what to do, I opened up my work e-mail, setting up a new message.

_**To: Mr. E. Masen  
From: Isabella M. Swan, Forks High Intern** _

She paused, wondering if she should keep it like that, or if she should change it. She decided to leave it, figuring that it would be best.

_**Hi. According to the information package I received when** _   
_**I came here, you are the person to contact if there is any** _   
_**problems with the mentor chosen for me, and I am in need** _   
_**of a new one. As I'm sure you can figure out yourself, I am** _   
_**in need of a new mentor.** _

_**The reason for this is my current mentor, Ms. Stanley has,** _   
_**for some reason, been uncooperative with me. All she has** _   
_**been allowing me to write is Teen Drinking Articles, despite** _   
_**knowing that she is supposed to have me write some other** _   
_**articles, and allow me to write them on my own as well if I** _   
_**come up with an idea.** _

_**Her instructions to me have been, since I got here, to write** _   
_**about teen drinking every weekend. The few times I have** _   
_**written a free write article written during the week when I'm** _   
_**not here, she has called me up to her office, yelled at me,** _   
_**and told me that I wasn't to write anything like that again, or** _   
_**she would fire me.** _

_**I do not know if she can fire me or not, but I do not feel that** _   
_**I can learn anything from her from what she has been doing.** _   
_**She has not been supportive at all in any of her sessions with** _   
_**me, either, telling me that I have been wasting her time in doing** _   
_**this, and that there is someone more suitable for this internship.** _

_**I won't lie, I have a feeling that she was talking about her daughter** _   
_**Jessica Stanley, when she said that, whom I beat for this spot in** _   
_**the tests given at the school. I don't want to cause a problem** _   
_**but I don't think I can work with someone who is as bitter as she** _   
_**has been because I ended up getting the internship over her** _   
_**daughter.** _

_**I'm sorry, that last part is inappropriate to write, but it's true. I feel** _   
_**that she wants me gone from this internship so that her daughter** _   
_**can have it, as, in her mind, I think she believes that it is her** _   
_**daughter's rightful place.** _

_**Anyway, this is why I am asking for a new mentor. I really want** _   
_**to be a journalist, and I need this internship so I can learn what** _   
_**I need to know to be one. I do not believe someone who is bitter** _   
_**about the fact that their own child did not get this spot and takes** _   
_**it out on their intern for no reason is a good fit.** _

_**Sincerely,  
Isabella Swan** _

I looked over the message. I probably should take out the part about the fact that I got this spot over Ms. Stanley's daughter, as it was inappropriate to say, but, as it kind of was a part of the problem, I decided to leave it in. Once I was sure that it outlined my problems with Ms. Stanley very clearly, she clicked send. And then let out a breath. I hoped that whoever it was that would read it didn't think that I was being stubborn or that they didn't think that I was just trying to waste time. I wasn't, honestly.

I just wanted to get a good work experience from this.

* * *

  _The Next Day_

* * *

 The first thing I noticed when I walked into work was the satisfied look of Ms. Stanley's face when she saw me. The second thing was, when I walked into my office, I saw a message on my desk, directing me to the office of James Hale, who was the manager that the CEO had placed in the office to take care of things going on here. Confused, and more than a little scared, I headed to his office, knocking twice at the door.

"Come in," came the smooth male voice of the office's owner. I opened it to get my first glimpse of James. He wasn't anything extraordinary, just a regular blond guy with a slight muscular look and nice facial features. However, I had to admit that I was captivated by his eyes, which were a brilliant violet color, instead of the blue I had almost expected see.

"Ah, Miss Swan, please, close the door and take a seat," he said. I did as he suggested, trying hard to to show my nervousness. The fact that Ms. Stanley had looked the way she did wasn't helping me all that much.

"Now," started Mr. Hale, "I'm sure you know why you're here. You sent an e-mail mentioning that you were having problems with Ms. Stanley."

"Yes, sir," I said, my nerves obvious due to his cool attitude. I was scared of what it was that he was going to say, and I think he sensed that, for he suddenly lost his cool demeanor, giving me a reassuring smile.

"Do not worry, Miss Swan," he said. "We are well aware that you were not trying to cause trouble or anything of the like. As you well know, when you started here, you were given an work e-mail address that was to be used with just work, and told to send in your password to Mr. Masen. Well, after receiving your e-mail and checking both yours and Ms. Stanley's email, we have realized that the reports about you she had been giving us are entirely false. Because of this, and after the meeting I'd just had with her, your request is being granted."

At that moment, just as his words registered to my mind and relief ran through me, the door opened. Another blonde, a female one, walked into the room, only this was look more like a model than I would have expected anyone working her to look like. I recognized her, of course; it was Rosalie Hale, James's sister. I smiled when I saw her; I got along well with her, though she wasn't there a every weekend that I was.

"Ah, Rosalie, right on time," James said.

"I take it that -" Rosalie started to say. James nodded, seemingly to know what it was that she was going to say.

"Yes," he said. Rosalie cracked a smile, turning towards me.

"Hey, Bella," she said. "I'm your new mentor. Just call me Rose."

"Okay," I said, smiling at her as the implications went through my mind. I stood, looking at James to know if it was all right for me to go. He nodded, said, "Bye," and went back to something on his desk. I walked over to Rose, who waited until I was standing next to her before leading me from the room.

"The first thing that needs to be done is that we need to give you a different office," Rose told me. I'll need you to be closer to me over near Ms. Stanley, since I'm your mentor now instead of her, so here's what we'll do. You go get your things from your office and bring them to the office next to mine. Meanwhile, after I drop these files off where they're needed, I'll inform Ms. Stanley of her terminated rights as a mentor. Of course, you can let her know that you're just moving to a different office if you'd like, but please let me tell her the 'happy' news."

It was then that I realized that she was holding some files in her hands. I nodded to her, telling her that I would gladly let her have her moment – it was no secret around the office that Rose hated Ms. Stanley, mostly because she'd caught her in bed with her ex-boyfriend when they were teens, and Rose never really got over that, the reasons for such unknown to me – then headed straight to my office. Ms. Stanley was standing next to the door, a triumphant look on her face. When she saw me packing, she couldn't help but open her big mouth.

"Now this job will actually go to someone whose actually worth having it," she said gloatingly. I just looked at her, rolling my eyes.

"Actually, Ms. Stanley, I'm simply being moved to a different office," I said. I ignored her after that, though I did take satisfaction in the surprised and confused look on her face.

"What do you mean, you little bitch?" she hissed at me, grabbing my arm with her sharp claws. She did this because I had been ignoring her previous inquiries, having told Rose that she could give the full news to her.

"Ow," I said, trying to pull back my arm. She tightened her grip, and I felt her nails actually break the skin. I knew that there would be bruises on it.

"What did you do, you stupid, worthless, little bitch?" she said, her voice full of venom. Several tears began filling my eyes at the pain she was inflicting on me, and I saw the glee on her face when she saw them.

"Let her go, Ms. Stanley," came a male voice from behind her. She immediately did so, a look of panic crossing her face as she turned to see James standing behind her. Rose came up then, saw my face, and pushed her way passed James, getting up in Ms. Stanley's face.

"What do you think you were doing to my protegé?" she asked her. Ms. Stanley's face drained of color.

"Your protegé?" she asked, her voice slightly higher than normal.

"Yeah, mine," Rose said. I noticed that James was just standing there, holding back a smile while he let his sister take care of Ms. Stanley. I would have wondered why he wasn't, but, knowing Rose as I did, I knew why he didn't. Even being her brother wouldn't save him from her temper if he interrupted.

"See, you've been judged unworthy of being a mentor to someone after your actions," Rose continued. "Personally, I think this arrangement will definitely work out much better than the old one."

She came over to me then, frowning as she saw what Ms. Stanley had done, but didn't say anything as she helped grab the rest of my things and walked me over to my new office, which was right next to hers, joined together with a door as well.

"Are you okay?" she asked. I nodded.

"I didn't think that she'd do that," I said, my voice a bit disbelieving.

"Nor did I," Rose said as she studied my arm with a critical look on her face. "Well, you might want to clean it, but it's not too bad. The bleeding's already stopped."

I nodded, and headed to the bathroom, where I did as she said. Then, I headed back to my office, where I found a folder on my desk detailing the first assignment Rose wanted from me. Reading it over, I smiled to myself, sensing that Rose would become the best mentor ever.

* * *

_Last Day of the Internship_

* * *

The school year and my internship went by rather quickly after the switch from Ms. Stanley to Rose, and, as I had suspected that first day, Rose was indeed the best mentor ever. While she would always have an assignment for me to do, one that was different every week, she also let me do my free writing, encouraging me to turn in articles on things that I wanted, such as the effects of peer pressure and how many teens tended to give into it, among some other topics. Each article I turned it had Rose proud to be my mentor.

On my last day at the paper – before summer break was about to start – I was finishing up my last article, which was what he effects of what was seen on television and in fashion magazines had on the youths of today. I looked at the clock, wanting to get out of there so I could get an earlier start of finding a job for summer, which I desperately needed now that I wouldn't have this one. While I had saved most of what I had made – which was over four thousand right now – without another job, that wouldn't last me the rest of the year.

See, my parents had died several years ago, and I lived under the guardianship of my stepfather, Phil. Now, Phil is a nice guy, but he's hardly ever here in Forks, for he spends most of his time out on the road – he works as a trucker. While he sends me money, it wasn't a lot. And I pretty much live alone in the house that had been my father's, which, having been paid off, was given to me, though all the bills for electricity and utilities are in Phil's name at the moment. I don't have to pay any of them, but I do have to pay for food, clothing, and common house hold items that I may need. Add in the fact that Phil had pretty much told me that the moment I was old enough, he was signing everything over to me, and my rush to have a sort of steady job so that I could hadn't it when that happen strengthened.

I knew that Phil was slightly eager to destroy all ties to me, which was why he was doing that. Like I said, he was a nice guy, so he wasn't trying to be a jerk in doing that. However, he had been crazy in love with my mother, and, since I look a lot like her, seeing me tended to bring back painful memories for him. That was part of his reasoning for taking on the trucking jobs as often as he did, so he didn't have to be home a whole lot. And I knew that, the minute he could sign over everything to me, I'd never see him again, at least, not on purpose.

So, as I looked at the clock again to see that it was only one minute closer to when I could leave, I sighed, opening up my e-mail to see if I had any last minute messages. I had a few; one from Phil (I had gotten permission to use this as a partially personal e-mail because of my unusual circumstances), one from Rose, two from a classmate, Mike Newton (I had no idea how he was able to send me anything), one from Jessica (which was deleted with the junk mail), and the final one being from Mr. Masen, which I found rather surprising to see.

I thought about which one I should read, and decided to see what Rose had to say at first – since she had been my mentor, it made me curious to know what she might have to say.

_**To: Isabella Swan** _   
_**From: Rosalie Hale** _   
_**Subject: No Subject** _

_**Hey, Bella, just wanted to let you know – since I'm** _   
_**not there today – that being your mentor has been** _   
_**the best. I do hope that you will look into either joining** _   
_**the program next year – and yes, that is allowed – or you'll** _   
_**look into the option for out summer free write jobs. While** _   
_**you won't get paid as generously as you have these pass** _   
_**months, you will get paid two dollars for everyone free write** _   
_**article you turn in and seven if that article is chosen to be** _   
_**placed into the newspaper. The articles can be anything,** _   
_**even short stories or poems – we do have a large section** _   
_**devoted to that type of thing for summer, just so that** _   
_**people can have this option.** _

_**I do believe that you have the best chance of this** _   
_**happening. James is the one who chooses the** _   
_**articles, so you won't have to worry about a certain** _   
_**someone sabotaging you.** _

_**Oh, and I just wanted to let you know that, if you need** _   
_**anything, to just call me. Even if I can't be there for you** _   
_**myself, I will do everything that I can do to do that, including** _   
_**sending someone I trust to help in my place.** _

_**Hoping to see you again,  
Rosalie** _

_**PS: Here's my number, just in case.** _

As I read the number given to me, I realized that it was not the two I already had, and I was touched to read her words. I was also a bit stunned to discover this about the newspaper, as I had never known that little fact. Of course, I had the feeling that my lack of knowledge came from the fact that Ms. Stanley was supposed to mention it to me when I first came here to work. Either that, or it was something that was told at the end of each internship, and announced in the paper just as summer began. I wouldn't know – I'd only moved here as summer ended the previous year, just in time to start the school year with everyone else. That was when my mother had died, my father having died two years before.

I shook my head, not wanting to dwell on that fact, before grabbing my phone book from my purse and putting in the number Rose had sent me. Then, I turned back to my e-mails, clicking on the one that Phil sent. I could tell by the subject that this wasn't going to be one that was all that different from those he usually sent me.

_**To: Isabella Swan** _   
_**From: Phil Dwyer** _   
_**Subject: Not Coming Back Anytime Soon** _

_**Hey, Bella, just wanted to let you know that I'll be** _   
_**gone several more weeks longer than I thought before.** _   
_**I decided to take a job delivering some good to New York.** _

_**Phil** _

Yup, just as I had thought. I didn't know why Phil thought that he needed to inform me of his plans every time he accepted a new job, but I suspect that it was done so that I would know that I didn't need to worry about him.

I debated about reading the e-mails from Mike, then sighed, deciding just to see what one looked like, just in case it was something to do with school that I wasn't informed of.

_**To: Isabella Swan** _   
_**From: Mike Newton** _   
_**Subject: Hey** _

_**Hey, babe, just wondering when you'll be getting out of there?** _   
_**Do you want to see a movie when you're allowed to leave?** _   
_**Call me.** _

_**Mike** _

_**PS: My number is...** _

I rolled my eyes, deleting the message without bothering to finish it. I did the same to the other message from him, sure that it wouldn't be anything important as well. Finally, all I had left was the message from Mr. Masen. Curious to know what it was about, I didn't waste any time in opening it.

_**To: Isabella Swan** _   
_**From: E. A. Masen** _   
_**Subject: Please Read** _

_**Dear Miss Swan** _

_**It has been a pleasure having you work for our newspaper.** _   
_**However, it has been an even better pleasure in watching** _   
_**you grow as a writer. I am glad to know that I was able to** _   
_**help you out with your problems, and that you were kind** _   
_**enough to bring them to my attention.** _

_**However, while what I have just written above is true, I have** _   
_**another reason for writing to you. You see, ever since you** _   
_**e-mailed me, I have become rather curious about you, and** _   
_**been watching you since the day after you sent the e-mail.** _   
_**As I have watched you, I have found my curiosity changing** _   
_**to interest in you.** _

_**I know all about your interesting position right now, and I** _   
_**have to admit, I have an idea of being able to help you. You** _   
_**see, I am in need of a wife, and I truly believe that you are the** _   
_**best person for that roll. This is why I have chosen you to** _   
_**become my wife.** _

_**Now, you can think this over all you want, but there is something** _   
_**important that you should know about me, the main thing, in fact:** _   
_**I don't take 'no' for an answer! So, even if you wish think it over** _   
_**I am afraid that you really do not have a choice in the matter.** _

_**I have instructed my sister to come pick you up once your shift** _   
_**is over, as we have a few things to discuss. I look forward to** _   
_**seeing you soon.** _

_**E.** _

My eyes were wide once I was finished reading the e-mail. I had to read it at least two more times before I could get my disbelieving mind to realize what it was that I had just read, at which point, I started to shake my head. This could not be the man I had e-mailed, not at all. This person was way too...insane to be him. I may have never met the man, but both Rose and James had, and, over the course of the the internship, they had mentioned him quite a bit, telling me about what kind of person he was. None of what they said matched with what this person had written.

I thought about it, realizing that his e-mail had to have been hacked, and that, due to the fact that I had sent him something once, must've been a victim of a prank. I deleted the e-mail, thinking about sending him something, but realized that it might not work out the way that I would need it to, as there was no guarantee that the hacker wouldn't notice it and wouldn't delete and get rid of it if that happened. So, I figured that, before I left, I would put a letter about it in Rose's box.

After that, I did my best to try and forget the e-mail, though it still hovered in the back of my mind. At ten minutes before I was to leave, I shut everything down, gathering my things, and picking them up to carry them out with me. James, seeing me, helped my out the door, not at all minding me leaving before my time was actually over, and I headed over to my truck – a very old Chevy truck that I figured to be circa 1950s by the way it looked – placing the box into the front seat.

After heading back inside to sign out for the last time, I turned, walking back out to my truck. However, just as I got out of sight of the door, but before I made it my truck, a rather small limo pulled up in front of me, blocking my way while gaining my attention. I paused, looking at it in confusion before shaking my head, going to move around it. Before I could do that, though, the back doors, as well as the driver's side door, opened, and three people got out. Two were male, both build like muscle-lifters, and rather intimidating. The third was a female, a rather short one – shorter than myself, in fact.

She was very pixie-like, with short, black hair styled into spikes. She wore a bright yellow shirt – I felt the beginnings of a headache just from looking at it for a short bit – and jeans. Her skin was pretty tan, and she had green eyes. She could easily be pretty if it wasn't for the fact that her expression was hard, and I could detect a hint of dislike towards me, which confused me, since I had no clue as to who she was.

"Isabella Swan," she said, her voice sneering slightly and ruining the musical tone it most likely normally was. The way she stated my name just strengthened the fact that I did think she liked me, as well as letting me know that she knew who I was, without a question. I knew that I couldn't try to lie to her because of that, so, I needlessly nodded my head, the type of action I would have done if she had asked my name instead of stating it.

She narrowed her eyes, and then, as if the words were causing her great pain, said, "You're coming with me."


End file.
